18. Random Shots

"What does it mean, leave well alone?" asked Tosh. Ianto shrugged, looking frustrated.

"I have no idea, and neither does Jack."

"Drink up, teaboy," said Owen, sliding a shot glass across the table in front of the sofa. "The best way to forget what we forgot is to forget that we forgot."

"That makes about as much sense as any of this," Ianto replied, raising the glass. "Cheers!"

Owen poured one for the rest of them and downed his own with Ianto. "So what else did our illustrious Captain say about this hot mess?"

Ianto reached for the bottle on the table and poured himself another shot, swirling it around as he stared into the liquid. "He doesn't remember anything either, didn't recognize the photo I found, just like the rest of us."

"Do you believe him?" asked Gwen. Owen made an impatient gesture with his hand, she did her shot, and he poured her another as she shivered and coughed. "He doesn't always tell us everything, after all."

"Understatement of the century," muttered Owen, and Ianto nodded in agreement as he loosened his tie and leaned back on the sofa.

"He keeps his cards close, but I don't think he'd hide something like this from us, not this time. This involves a lot more than…well, than his usual hedging around the truth." He grimaced and choked back his shot. "If he erased our memories, he'd tell us. I think he's as confused and worried as the rest of us, but the mental cue—leave well alone—seems to have calmed some of his fears."

"I don't understand why he's so sure the mental cue is safe," said Tosh, sitting next to Ianto on the sofa. She hadn't done her shot yet and shook her head when Owen prompted her. He did another instead and poured a third for him and Ianto. "What if someone else planted it, and not him?"

"That's what I said!" Ianto exclaimed, hands waving through the air. "If someone wiped our records and our memories, of course they'd leave a mental suggestion to leave it alone and not look into it!"

"Cheers to the obvious," said Owen. Even Tosh nodded, and emptied her glass.

"I want to know why Owen sent you flowers," said Gwen. She was sitting in the chair next to the sofa, feet tucked under her. Owen groaned.

"Apparently to apologize," said Tosh, grinning cheekily at Owen. "Which definitely means something strange happened over the last few days!"

"Exactly," said Owen. "Because I don't apologize, and I definitely don't send flowers for it. So I must have been off my head."

"Maybe it was those glasses you woke up with," Ianto suggested with a smirk.

"Stuff it," said Owen. "Have another." He poured another shot for Ianto and Gwen. "We're good on the Rift, right Tosh? Quiet night?"

"Nothing for forty-eight hours," she said, holding out her glass. "Should even give us time to recover from the hangover."

Gwen raised hers, they clinked glasses, and with much coughing and sputtering, finished another round.

"What I don't get is how Rhys got swept up into all this," said Gwen. "When I called him, he said he'd been asleep for several hours and didn't remember anything strange about the last few days!"

Ianto frowned. "So whatever happened affected him as well. Hell of welcome to Torchwood—first he gets shot, then he gets his memory wiped."

Gwen sighed and reached for another drink. "I hate it, but at the same time, I'm so glad he knows," she said. "We—"

"—know," interrupted Owen. "Moving on—so where's our captain now?"

"He wanted to talk to the police, see what happened that we might have forgotten," said Tosh. They all turned to look at her. "What? He is concerned about it, even if he's trying to reassure the rest of us."

"But…but…" Ianto said, frowning and trying to get the words out. "He usually leaves that to me or Gwen. Since we can do it without pissing off the entire station and leaving behind a collection of phone numbers and broken hearts."

Owen snorted. "Then you should probably make peace tomorrow morning before they cut off our access to crime scenes."

Ianto glanced at Gwen and they nodded. They all sat in silence for a moment, turning over whatever thoughts of the mysterious lost days they could as the alcohol kicked in. The sudden blaring of the alarm startled them all; Tosh jumped in her seat, and Owen swore under his breath before downing another shot.

Jack strode in, holding a large vase of flowers. He glanced around it and grinned. "Hey kids, how're we doing?"

"Depends," said Ianto, raising an eyebrow and sitting up straighter. "How did it go with the police?"

Jack lowered the flowers and frowned. "Fine, why?"

"What did they say, Jack?" asked Gwen. "About the last two days?"

Jack shrugged. "Just that they saw 'those poncey special ops Muppets, stomping around and acting like they own the place.' I'm assuming that's us and that we were called out at least once."

Ianto snorted and knocked back his shot before flopping back against the sofa. Gwen poured him another. "Tomorrow morning?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Coffee and pastries should do the trick," he said.

"It's a date," she replied. Jack looked so confused that they burst out laughing.

"Well, now I can see why you missed the delivery upstairs." He proudly displayed his vase of flowers—roses and lilies and baby's breath. "Someone sent me flowers."

All eyes turned to Owen, who threw up his hands. "Give me a break! Why the hell would I send him flowers?"

"To apologize for being a general pain in the arse, perhaps?" suggested Ianto, and the girls sniggered. Owen pointed a finger at the Welshman.

"Or maybe it was you, and you're trying to get back into his pants."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "There are far better ways of getting into Jack's pants, believe me." He seemed to realize what he said, shrugged, and finished his drink.

Owen opened his mouth to retort, Ianto mimed gun fingers at his shoulder, and Jack looked confused once again.

"There's no note," he said, walking past them to his office. "So I must have a secret admirer," he tossed over his shoulder.

This time three pairs of eyes turned toward Ianto. "What?" he asked, putting his feet up on the table. Gwen pushed them down and he huffed at her. "I am not a secret admirer. I admire people in the open."

Owen rolled his eyes and Gwen giggled, but Tosh looked concerned. "What if the flowers are from someone having to do with our memory loss?"

Ianto leaned forward and motioned them close. He lowered his voice. "They're not. He ordered them himself."

"What?" asked Tosh, and Owen fell back laughing with Gwen. Ianto nodded sagely.

"I heard him on the phone. He ordered them himself. He liked yours." Ianto waved at Tosh's flowers.

"So he sent himself flowers?" sputtered Gwen. "What for? To make us jealous or something?"

"I don't know," said Owen. "Are you jealous, Jones?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Absolutely. I'm plotting my revenge as we speak."

"Really?" asked Tosh, and Ianto looped an arm around her shoulder.

"Of course not," said Ianto. "Well, not this time, anyway. I don't think it would be good to mess with his head after we've all lost our memory."

"You're a good man, Ianto," she replied, snuggling up against him. Jack appeared then, hands tucked into his pockets.

"So, team…" he started. They all glanced up at him and waited for him to continue. The silence stretched. Gwen broke it by trying to hold in a laugh that came out more like an elephant snort. The others fell apart, and Jack watched them with a straight face, until he couldn't help but join in.

The sound of Ianto's mobile interrupted them. He squinted at his phone and stood up, albeit unsteadily.

"It seems I have a delivery of my own," he said, pulling down his waistcoat. "Pizza's here!"

"Time to sober up?" asked Jack. Owen reached toward the bottle on the table, but fell back into his chair with a nod.

"Good idea."

"Care to help, sir?" asked Ianto, edging close by Jack as he made his way toward the stairs. There was no mistaking the physical contact. "I could use a helping hand."

Jack grinned and wagged his eyebrows at the others and followed without a word. Owen went back to the bottle and poured them all another shot.

"Here's hoping they're back in an hour," he said. "Because I do not want cold pizza covered in—"

"Oh Owen," said Tosh as Gwen took Ianto's place on the sofa. "It's been a hard week. Leave well alone!"

Her and Tosh fell against one another in a fit of giggles. Owen leaned back and closed his eyes.

Maybe if he was lucky he'd forget the last hour had ever happened.

Author's Notes
Every so often I can turn out a lighter one. A different way of dealing with the aftermath of Adam - enjoy!